“Oh, I’ll be very cautious,” laughed Nat; “at any rate, I can’t get run down by a boat ashore here.”
“But there may be dangers, nevertheless,” counseled the professor.
Nat again promised to be careful and hurried out. He wished to mail some letters home, as well as do a bit of sight seeing. He found the post office without difficulty and, having mailed his missives, was leaving it, when a native, in a long serape, or cloak, glided up to him.
“The señor is from the boat which anchored this evening?” he asked.
“Yes,” rejoined Nat. “Why?”
“Because if the señor wishes to see the town I am very good guide. I can show him where they sell veree fine ’Merican ice cream soda.”
“By ginger! You’re on,” cried Nat, who had a weakness for ice cream sodas; “lead on, Macduff. You don’t look very presentable, but I guess that isn’t your fault.”
“Thees way, señor,” said the man, and he walked off slightly in advance of Nat.
Suddenly he turned into a dark alley. Now, although Nat had nothing to dread, yet he began to be fearful that the fellow might mean to rob him. So he stopped short for an instant. But the next moment his suspicions were disarmed by a look at the ragged, pitiable fellow. Nat would have been a match for six of him.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, however, as they plunged into the narrow thoroughfare, which was ill-paved and black as a tunnel.